


Better Together

by fischotterschreiberei



Category: Don't Starve (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Platonic Cuddling, Platonic Relationships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-17
Updated: 2019-08-01
Packaged: 2020-06-29 21:31:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 1,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19838899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fischotterschreiberei/pseuds/fischotterschreiberei
Summary: a collection of platonic fluff drabbles, because if you're in the Constant with a friend it's not ALL bad.





	1. Chapter 1

Stumbling out of the tent, Wilson blinked groggily in the dim light of the early dawn. After rubbing sleep from his eyes, his vision cleared enough to register the form of Webber seated beside the fire. The youngster was hugging his furry little knees to his chest, all eight eyes fixed on Wilson with an expression of concern. As he helped himself to some of the food in their makeshift refrigerator, Wilson returned Webber’s gaze with a quizzical one of his own. “What’s wrong? Did something happen in the night?”

“We heard you talking in your sleep,” came the reply, delivered in a haunted tone. “You sounded scared. We didn’t know what to do.You told us not to go in there while you’re sleeping.”

Wilson frowned, remembering the circumstances under which he had decided to enact that rule. (In his defense, anyone would have been startled upon waking to all those eyes and fangs and legs staring back at them in the dark. It was fortunate that he had caught himself before lashing out in an instinctive reaction to seeing a Spider.) Selecting a piece of taffy from the larder, he joined Webber by the fire and offered him the treat. The strange little being immediately brightened, shoving the candy into his mouth and chewing with gusto. Wilson couldn’t help but smile at Webber’s simple delight. “There now, no need to worry. I’m sure it was just a nightmare. I do appreciate your concern.”

A bit of taffy had stuck to one of Webber’s fangs; he was now trying to lick it off. The distraction was clearly good for him, as his voice was steadier now. “When we had nightmares, Mum would give us some tea to help us sleep better. We think we should find something to make tea with so you can have some next time you have nightmares.”

Wilson smiled again and ruffled the wiry hair atop Webber’s head, glad for his gloves’ protection from the bizarre texture. “I think that sounds like an excellent idea. Let’s go together.”


	2. Chapter 2

No sooner did Wendy recognize the sound of rain beginning to fall than she found herself jostled twice in quick succession. The first shove came from WX-78 as they bolted for the lean-to, shouting “MOVE, FLESHLING” before diving inside, huddling to the back, and glowering fiercely out at anyone who might dare think about joining them despite there being plenty of space for two. The other, much less forceful bump came from Webber as the little monster went peeling by in the opposite direction, tearing off his clothes and flinging them in all directions while bellowing in delight, “Rain bath! Rain bath!”

Though Wendy did not fancy getting wet and there was yet no sign of lightning, she chased after him, with Abigail trailing behind and uttering a low wail of concern. “Get back here, you! You’ll catch cold!”

A tiny pointed tongue protruded teasingly from between Webber’s fangs. “Can’t catch us!” he shouted, doing a little dance before dashing away again. 

His purser took refuge under a pine tree. “Do not come crying to me and Abby when you get sick. We’re going to stay right here where it’s dry.”

She flounced her skirts emphatically as she sat. Abigail hovered a little lower to the ground to mimic her twin. From a safe distance away Webber paused and extended his hands in a beckoning gesture. “Nooo, come play in the rain with us!”

A vehement head shake that caused her pigtails to bounce was Wendy’s reply. Webber tried a different approach. “You need a bath, too!” he shouted, doing another taunting little dance. “You’re stinky! Stinky, stinky!”

“Don’t be rude!” she scolded.

Webber pouted. “Fine. We’ll play by ourselves then.” 

His disappointment was short-lived, as he was soon distracted jumping in puddles and catching raindrops on his tongue. Wendy remained where she was, watching fondly. When he tired, he returned to her and she took his hand to run back to camp together. WX was still occupying the lean-to, despite the rain having petered into a drizzle. Once it stopped, Wendy dug a scrap piece of silk-cloth from the chest and began gently toweling Webber off. “We scrubbed our fur with a pine branch so we would get all clean,” he announced proudly. 

“I can tell by the sap stuck in it,” Wendy replied with a wry purse of her lips. 

Despite the inconvenience of removing sticky pine sap - Willow put this to use in the campfire - the little one was soon clean and dry. Worn out from his play, he joined Wendy and Abigail by the fireside and rested his head in Wendy’s lap. She stroked his fur, and could have sworn she heard him make a sound almost like purring. “You know,” she murmured as she watched all eight of his eyelids begin to grow heavy, “your hair is really soft after you wash it.” 

“Thank you. We take good care of it.” He yawned cavernously, exposing rows of needle-like teeth. “…Can we take a nap? Right here?”

Wendy glanced at the lean-to. WX had apparently powered down inside, so it seemed there would be some peace and quiet for a while. “Certainly,” she replied.

“You’ll keep an eye out for monsters while we sleep?” Webber asked, concerned despite his sleepiness.

“We will,” Wendy promised, and Abigail gave a soft hum of agreement. Gently she stroked his brow. “Sleep tight, little bug.”


	3. Chapter 3

Under other circumstances, coming into camp to hear a child singing might have been an endearing experience. But the voice Wilson heard was that of a monster - strange and harsh - and it made the hair on the back of his neck stand up despite the familiarity. There by the fire sat Webber, playing with some manner of makeshift toy and blithely belting out a nursery rhyme;

_“Ring-o’ ring-o’ roses,_

_A pocket full o’ posies_

_Achoo! Achoo!_

_We all fall down.”_

As he noticed Wilson coming up the path, he waved. “Hello! Do you like our song? Did you know it’s about the Black Death?”

“I did.” Wilson heaved the pack from his shoulders and deposited it on the ground with a concerned frown. “Where did you hear that?”

“Wendy told us.” 

Wilson might have guessed. The cheerful reply led him to hope Wendy had not gone into enough detail that Webber actually understood what the Black Death was. “Perhaps,” he offered cautiously, “You could sing something else.”

Webber’s furry little shoulders slumped in dismay. “You don’t like our singing?”

“It’s not that,” Wilson replied quickly, wracking his foggy memories of nursery rhymes to find a more suitable ditty. “What I meant was…do you know ‘Lavenders green’? That one’s my favorite.”

A vehement head shake. “No, we don’t.” After a brief pause, his face lit up as an idea dawned. “Would you teach it to us?”

This was not the expected response. It had been years since Wilson had sang in front of anyone. “Well…” he sputtered, “I’m a scientist, not a singer…”

Webber pouted. “But we want to hear you sing.”

Eight eyes shone with such compelling puppylike fervency that Wilson heaved a sigh of surrender. “All right, all right. But you must promise not to tell anyone you heard me singing.”


	4. Chapter 4

“BOATS ARE BAD ENOUGH. YOU WANT ME TO STAND ON A STUPID LITTLE BOARD IN THE WATER? HA. THAT IS A LAUGH. I LAUGH AT YOUR PATHETIC MODE OF TRANSPORTATION.”

Despite the mocking from her robotic companion, Walani was unperturbed as ever, seated cross-legged in the sand working on something. “You can laugh, but this board can skim over the waves faster than any boat we can build.” She cast a glance over the scattered supplies around her. “At best, we could probably get a raft out of this.”

WX-78 kicked at a stray rope in the sand. “A RAFT IS BETTER THAN A SINGLE SLAB OF PAINTED WOOD.” 

“Surfing is more fun though,” Walani pointed out.

“I AM A ROBOT. I AM PROGRAMMED WITH IMPECCABLE LOGIC AND THE ABILITY TO CARRY OUT ANY REQUIRED TASK. I HAVE NO NEED FOR ‘FUN’.”

They paused, leaning closer to see what she was doing. Walani did not try to hide a smile. She had never known automatons to be programmed with curiosity, but as with all things touched by the Constant, WX-78 seemed to be developing some very unique traits. “WHAT ARE YOU WORKING ON?”

Proudly she held up her project for them to inspect. “I found some snakeskin, so I made you a little waterproof jacket. No more worries about short-circuiting.”

“I DO NOT WORRY,” they lied. A pause, then they drew themself up haughtily and thrust forth a demanding metallic hand. “YOUR OFFERING IS ACCEPTABLE. RELINQUISH IT TO MY POSSESSION.”

Working on their imperious attitude could wait. Walani handed over the jacket, and smiled again as they put it on. “Lookin’ good!”

“THE COLORATION OF THIS GARMENT COMPLIMENTS MY SHELL NICELY.” WX turned this way and that, trying to admire themself. 

“It would look even better out on the water,” Walani said with a grin, standing and retrieving her board.

WX’s empty ocular sockets seemed to stare at her as the gears in their head turned. “YOU’RE RIGHT, FLESHLING. ON THE WATER ON THE SAFETY OF A RAFT.”

Wading into the shallows, just up to her knees, Walani beckoned to them. “Come on, don’t be so stubborn. Just give it a try. Surfing is good for the soul.”

“I HAVE NO SOUL,” they snapped, but shuffled a little closer. 

With much patient coaxing, Walani eventually convinced them to take the leap from land to standing on the board in the shallows. Instinctively they grabbed her hand to steady themself, and she smiled encouragingly. “See, it’s not so bad. You’ll be riding the waves in no time!”

Slowly, slowly, WX let go of her hand and stood on their own, stiffly imitating the posture they had seen her adopt while surfing. They glared out at the endless stretch of water and shook their fist in defiance. “PREPARE YOURSELVES, WAVES. I HAVE CONQUERED THE LAND, AND SOON NOTHING WILL STOP ME FROM CONQUERING YOU TOO.”


	5. Chapter 5

A distant sound caused Wilson to look up from his work. A coldness raced up his spine. “Did you hear that?” he asked Webber, who was chasing butterflies nearby.

Pausing, Webber listened, then started. “Doggies are coming!”

Cursing internally, Wilson dropped his project grabbed his spear. Webber was already running...in the direction opposite the nearby herd of Beefalo which could offer some protection. “You’re going the wrong way!” Wilson shouted, but Webber has disappeared into the forest.

The ominous baying was drawing closer by the second. Wilson briefly glanced in the direction of the Beefalo. Then he dashed off in the direction Webber had been heading. “Webber! Where are you?! We’ve got to stick together!”

Like a little black shadow Webber appeared beside him. Despite the familiarity, Wilson had to steel himself from instinctively jumping away from the spidery face. “What’s gotten into you?” he scolded. “You should know better than-“

The appearance of another such face actually made him jerk back in surprise. Another spider appeared, then another, and more still. Bright yellow and black-striped warrior spiders joined the growing cluster. Not one of them made to attack Wilson, who managed to stand his ground even while recoiling from the multitude of hairy legs and sharp fangs. All the spiders crowded around Wilson and Webber. As the first of the hounds could be seen crashing through the underbrush towards them, Webber brandished his spear, and his spider army snarled as one. The monster child smiled sweetly up at his friend. “Don’t worry, Mister Wilson,” he assured him, lisping around his fangs. “We’re here to protect you.”


End file.
